


Don't go.

by Rogue1987



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Comfort/Angst, M/M, You Can't Always Get What You Want
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-16 02:54:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1329199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rogue1987/pseuds/Rogue1987
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This takes place right before Zlatan leaves Barcelona to go to Milan. </p><p>Maxwell knows that he has struggled trough his time with Guardiola but he doesn't want him to go.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You asshole.

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been having many Maxtan feelings lately and my other story is kind of stuck, so I wanted to go on with a two shot.  
> But I have to say I'm feeling anxious about this one, seeing how I feel like I kinda insult Ibra for even suggesting that he is gay and would do this kind of things. 
> 
> so I'm really curious how you guys feel about this.
> 
> Oh btw Mino Riola is Zlatan and Maxwell's agent.
> 
> Edit: So I wanted to make this a two part story and I know I promised it, but I just simply cannot type Zlatan and Maxwell in a gay way, I just cannot do it.  
> I feel like I'm disrespecting Zlatan's image to much and it just doesn't feel right for me.  
> So I've made a epilogue for them, hope you guys like it.  
> Sorry I haven't made a second chapter guys!!

Barcelona, summer of 2010.

_''I'm leaving Max,''_

Maxwell has to sit down for Zlatan's words make him dizzy and confused.  
They are in the living room of Maxwell's house in the outskirts of Barcelona.

Maxwell knows that Zlatan has had a really tough time at the club, and he knows everything about his warfare with Pep, but still him leaving takes him a little by surprise.

He kicks himself in the face for his own stupidity, he should have known that Zlatan would run away.  
For gods sake, he has known Zlatan for so many years now.

''Max did you hear me?'' Zlatan asks concerned and he sits down next to his pale friend and wraps his arm around his shoulders.  
''Of course I heard you, _I just-need a second to process this information._  
I know it has been extremely hard for you here but still you leaving-it just takes me by surprise thats all,''

 _''Really??_  
Well I'm sorry I hadn't discussed it with you first, I should have known to ask your permission before getting out of this hell hole,'' Zlatan snaps but Maxwell knows it isn't meant in a bad way.

Zlatan was like an autumn day; _beautiful, warm, rainy, cold, unpredictable, explosive_.

He could bitch and yell at him sometimes but Maxwell knew that the words meant nothing.  
With Zlatan it was all about his actions, his words-well to be honest: he wasn't really good at talking about feelings and all that.

''You don't _have_ to ask my permission Ibra, but you're my best friend.  
But why didn't you or Mino tell _me_ that you were looking for a new club?'' Maxwell asks and he turns his air-conditioning on cause its fucking hot in his house.

''Use your brain Max, you know how fucking miserable I've been for the last few months.  
That _asshole_ hasn't talked to me since fucking march!!  
I have to get the fuck out of here!'' Zlatan says and he gets up from the couch and walks to Maxwell's fridge to get some home made strawberry juice from the top shelf.

He frowns when he sees that the fridge is almost empty.  
Zlatan _hates_ empty fridges.

''You need to do grocery's man, this thing is almost empty!'' he snaps when he gives Maxwell a glass of juice and Maxwell smiles sadly.  
''Yeah so what?'' he teases, cause he knows damn well that Zlatan cannot stand the sight of an empty fridge.

''So lets get some grocery's, I'm staying over for dinner,'' Zlatan announces and Maxwell smiles a little.  
 _''Is that so?_  
Nice of you to invite _yourself_ over for dinner, but if you're staying for dinner that means that I'm cooking!'' he sighs and Zlatan grins.

''Of course, I can't cook for shit you know that.  
I can burn the living shit out of a fucking egg,''

So they go to the store to buy dinner and Maxwell decides to make Zlatan's favorite Brazilian dish.  
Stew with banana, beef, rice and a lot of other secret ingredients that Maxwell _always_ refuses to tell anyone.

Its his mothers family recipe and he has cooked it countless times for Zlatan during their years together.

''Get some wine too,'' Maxwell orders when they are standing in the alcoholic section of the store.  
Maxwell loves that he is able to speak English now, he and Zlatan always speak English instead of Spanish.

Learning Catalan and Spanish had always been a pain in both of their asses so whenever they are around each other everything is in English.  
But now Zlatan is leaving and Maxwell wonders who he has left to speak English with.

 _Maybe Thierry Henry,_ he thinks.  
He speaks English very well too.

''Looking to get drunk Max?'' Zlatan asks with a tone of discontent.  
''Fuck yeah, my best friend is leaving me so I figure thats a nice excuse to drink don't you?''

Zlatan is silent for a while and just shrugs nonchalant.  
When they have paid for everything Maxwell grabs a pack of smokes at the counter and Zlatan snatches it out of his hands.

''What the fuck are you doing Max?  
We _can't_ smoke, you know that!''

''Fuck the rules, I wanna smoke so let me,''  
''Dani hooked you onto them again didn't he?'' Zlatan asks with a lot of anger hidden away in his eyes and words.

''Sort of, but lets go, I'm hungry,''  
Maxwell knows that Dani will always be a delicate subject for Zlatan since he has never liked it that Dani and Maxwell are so close.  
He was always _kinda_ jealous.

When they get back to Maxwell's house its still pretty fucking hot inside and Maxwell takes his shirt of and is only dressed in his short, kaki jeans.  
He sees Zlatan's eyes looking at him but when his own eyes meet Zlatan's he looks away.

Zlatan always looks away.  
''Need any help?'' Zlatan offers when Maxwell is twirling the meat around in a pan, a glass of white wine in one hand and a smoke in the other.

''Nah just sit down, its way too hot to move anyway.  
Have a glass of wine,'' he says and he nods at the bottle in the fridge.

''You know I don't really _like_ drunk people right?''

''I know that you moron, but still just take some wine, don't argue with me, I'm not in the mood for a fight today,'' Maxwell sighs and he sees that Zlatan obeys and he pours himself a glass of wine and puts some ice cubes in it.

 _That barbarian,_ Maxwell thinks.  
Ruining some fine wine with ice.

''So are we going to talk about anything or do you just wanna stare at me all night, with those dark, angry eyes of yours,'' Zlatan says when Maxwell has handed him his dinner and sits across from him at the white wooden table.

''I'm sorry Ibra, I'm not the best company tonight,''  
''Yeah I noticed that,'' Zlatan says and he takes a bite and closes his eyes for a second.

After all these years he is still in love with this dish.  
''Its delicious Max, like always,'' Zlatan says with a smiled and Maxwell smiles back briefly.

''Look how do you expect me to not be angry with you right now?'' Maxwell says and he takes another sip of his wine, spilling a lot on himself in his hurry and aggravation.  
''I don't know what you want me to say Maxi, you want me to stay here and be miserable?''

''No of course not!!  
But the kids are happy here right? And so is Helena, so why are you moving away?  
 _Is it really just because of Pep?''_ Maxwell asks and he knows that this is a very difficult subject that Zlatan likes to avoid.

_Well fuck him, not even Zlatan can get everything he wants._

''You know me and Helena are not really happy, we haven't been happy for years now.  
We have nothing in common Max, and if she wasn't so good to me and to my image I would divorce her.  
But I can't do that,''

Maxwell feels an iron fist clench around his heart and he gets angry at Zlatan, very angry.

 **''You asshole!!**  
 **How can you talk about her like she is nothing to you??**  
Isn't there anyone you care about??!!

You have been with her for years now, she gave you two beautiful boys and still you wanna leave her!  
Did you find someone better or something?'' he yells and Zlatan's eyes go wide and Maxwell sees that he has hurt him a lot.

But he doesn't care about that anymore, Zlatan deserves his anger.

''Of course I love her, but I-well yes you can say that I'm in love with someone else,'' Zlatan whispers and Maxwell sighs heavily and takes another bite of his food, but it doesn't taste good anymore-not at all so he puts his fork down.

''Well who is it then?'' he asks, his heart beating in his throat.  
''Isn't it kind of obvious Max?'' Zlatan says and he puts his fork down and sits down in the chair next to Maxwell.

 _''You really don't remember it do you?''_ Zlatan asks and Maxwell frowns his eyebrows in shock.  
''Remember what Ibra?''

''The night we became champions of the league in Milan.  
You don't remember much of that night do you?''

''Not really since I was _severely wasted_ , why?  
Did something happen?'' Maxwell asks with his heart pounding in his ears.

''Yeah you could say that,''  
''Did you meet a girl there?'' Maxwell asks completely oblivious to the point Zlatan wants to make.

''No idiot, I kissed a _guy_ there, and it was pretty fucking hot,''  
Maxwell feels like someone has put the heater on in his head and body cause suddenly he can't seem to move or breathe without feeling like he is in hell.

''Oh you kiss Thierry?'' he asks not sure if he wants to know the answer.

''How you can be so smart and so stupid at the same time is beyond me!!!  
 _ **I kissed you, you dumb motherfucker!!!''**_ Zlatan almost screams and Maxwell feels his cheeks flush red and his jaw drops to the floor.

And _fuck,_ now that Zlatan mentions it the memories sort of come back to him.  
Maxwell being super drunk, Zlatan taking him home to his apartment and then he had stayed behind and put Maxwell in his bed.

But he hadn't left his bed, he had fucking kissed him on his lips and Maxwell had loved everything about it.

 **''Oh my god Zlatan!!!**  
Why the fuck didn't you tell me about this before today??'' Maxwell screams and he jumps up from his seat and put the air-conditioning on even more since he feels like he is completely on fire.

''I thought you remembered it, I didn't know that you had forgotten all about it!''  
''So you came here to blame _me_ for your failed relationship, is that it?'' Maxwell accuses and Zlatan sighs and rolls his eyes.

''No idiot, I came here to say goodbye and I really hope that this isn't the end for us.  
 _You_ are fucking with my head Max, what I feel for you is fucking everything up.  
And now I'm leaving you, thanks to _him!_

I don't wanna go Max, I don't wanna leave you.  
 _I want to stay with you-always._  
But I can't be this guy, who stays here just for you and lets Pep use me as his personal trash bag.

I have to choose what is best for myself and that is leaving this team.  
 _Come with me Max...''_ he pleads and he takes Maxwell's warm hand.

''I can't come with you, I have a contract and I like it here.  
I can't believe you're doing this to me, why didn't you tell me something before-anything!!  
 **You fucking asshole!!!''** Maxwell screams and he trows his wine glass on the floor, shattering it into a thousand pieces.

''Fuck Max, please just stay calm okay!!  
Here lets clean this up a little,'' Zlatan offers and he walks to the kitchen and gets a vacuum cleaner and he cuts his hand on the glass as he tries to take it away.

''Ow fuck!'' he swears and there is a lot of blood streaming over his hand.  
''Here let me get some bandages,'' Maxwell says icy and he walks to his bedroom and gets his first aid kid out of the cabinet.

''Sit down,'' he orders and Zlatan sits down on his bed, with paper tissue pressed to his hand.  
Maxwell starts his messy work and cleans the blood of his hand and covers it up with the white bandage.

''I will _never_ understand you Zlatan,'' he sighs and Zlatan looks up amused and interested.

''I never understand why you took _me_ for a friend.  
Why you care about me at all, I mean you're always friends with the tough guys like Viera, Henry, and you despise good boys like me or Xavi.  
So why you even _like_ me I'll never know,'' Maxwell says and Zlatan grins wide.

''How the _fuck_ is this funny right now?'' Maxwell asks annoyed and Zlatan tugs him down next to him on the bed.  
''Maxi, shut the fuck up and kiss me,'' Zlatan smirks and Maxwell obeys.

He grabs Zlatan by his shirt and drags him against his body, trashing his lips onto his.  
Its more a fight then a proper kiss but Maxwell is still beaming with anger so he is not in the mood for anything sweet yet.

But then Zlatan cups his cheek and caresses his hair so gently that it almost makes Maxwell cry.  
And he softens up and kisses Zlatan back gentler and he feels Zlatan open his mouth and his tongue hungrily asking him for permission.

He lets him.  
A lot of things are going trough Maxwell's mind right now; _anger, relief that Zlatan isn't in love with somebody else, passion, anger, desire._

He feels Zlatan's hands go over his bare chest and he closes his eyes moaning at the feeling.  
Zlatan deepens his kiss and Maxwell feels dizzy by all the sensations that go trough his head.

He fumbles with Zlatan's t-shirt and pulls it over Zlatan's head and trows himself on Zlatan's warm bare chest.  
Maxwell places a series of kisses over Zlatan's neck and he hears his friend moan and hiss at the feeling of the warm tongue going over his sensitive neck.

But Maxwell is still angry and not really in the mood for any long and sensitive fucking, so he takes Zlatan's pants of, and his own and takes a bottle of lube out of his night stand.  
''Take me Ibra, make me yours,''

Zlatan seems to have doubts about the whole thing cause he is silent for a while and than he lays down next to Maxwell and sighs.  
''I can't do this Max,''

 **''Excuse me???''** Maxwell shouts and he is glad he doesn't have neighbors.

''Not like this I mean, not when you're mad at me, not on the night where I have to say goodbye to you.  
I dont wanna do it like this,'' Zlatan says and he cups Maxwell face and places his forehead against his.

''It has to be special, I mean I-well- _I love you,''_ he admits and Maxwell feels his heart melt with love and his eyes fill up with tears.

And there they are: those three fucking words that fuck everything up even more.   
Zlatan has never admitted that he loved him before, nor had he ever heard him say it to anyone.  
It is special and Maxwell knows it.

He kisses Zlatan's lips warm and deep and for the first time without any anger.  
It is the perfect gentle and passionate kiss and when he is done he sees a tear roll over Zlatan's cheek.

''I love you too, I have _always_ loved you.  
Since the first day at Ajax, trough Inter and now here at Barca, and I will always love you.  
I don't wanna say goodbye to you again.

But I promise you that we will play together again- _someday_.  
I will make sure of it.  
And maybe when we do, we can finally do this right,'' he says and he kisses Zlatan's lips again, his tongue carefully swirling around in his mouth.

''Promise?'' Zlatan asks with a voice so small it could be a children's voice.  
''I promise, will you stay here tonight?  
I don't wanna sleep alone now,'' Maxwell asks and Zlatan nods.

They spend the evening kissing, telling each other stories about when they first realized that they were in love with each other and they played lots of chess.  
''Sleep tight Zlatan,'' Maxwell says and he kisses Zlatan's lips again and feels his tall friend curl up behind him, swallowing his smaller body with his arms and legs.

''Sleep tight Max,''  
Of course they don't really sleep that night, they spend the night talking, kissing, and hugging.

Maxwell doesn't want the day to come and he sighs heavily when he sees the first sunbeams coming trough the trees.  
When its noon Zlatan goes home to pack his stuff, and he stands in Maxwell's doorway, hovering over his friend.

''I don't want to leave, _this fucking sucks._  
I hate this, why couldn't I have been a true Barca boy like you?'' Zlatan mopes and Maxwell embraces him again and kisses his lips.

''Cause you're _you_ Ibra, and you don't jump when Pep tells you to.  
You are _unique_ and strong and you always follow your own path.  
Its what makes you so unique.

You can't ever be a Barca boy, and thank god for that.  
Please don't ever change,'' Maxwell pants in Zlatan's neck and he kissed his forehead and smiles at him.

''I love you Max, and we will stay in touch and will meet up I promise,''

''I know, good luck at Milan.  
 _I love you too,''_ Maxwell says and he kisses Zlatan's cheeks and his lips one last time.

Zlatan leaves and Maxwell falls down on his floor and cries for a week.

 

 

Epilogue.

Paris 2014.

Maxwell picks Zlatan up from the grass when he goes down injured, he is there for him whenever he needs him to be there. They cook Brazilian food together, they hang out, Maxwell plays with his kids.

But Zlatan never speaks of that night in Barcelona again.

He doesn't leave his wife as he promised, and Maxwell knows that its because he is afraid to lose face, Zlatan simply _cannot_ hang out with him, cannot date him, cause people will know about it and it will ruin his career. 

Zlatan can't even pick up a pack of milk without being photographed to death, so Maxwell knows why Zlatan is pulling away from him. 

It hurts him, more then he can ever admit out loud, but whenever they hug each other when Zlatan scores he _knows_ that Zlatan still loves him. He can see it in his eyes, cause its the only time that Zlatan's eyes are soft and warm. 

And it always gives him hope that maybe someday, he will be with him for real. 

Maxwell just figures that he _can't always get what he wants._  

Maybe Zlatan's friendship is enough for him, maybe _someday_ he will grow over his feelings.

At least they are back to playing together, he thinks. That has made Maxwell extremely happy, and he and Zlatan spend a lot of time together whenever they are roommates in a hotel.

So maybe his feelings will ease off soon.  

But not today, today Maxwell is a fool for love. 

Maxwell has a feeling he will _always_ be that fool. 

 

 


	2. Brazil here we come.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maxwell and Zlatan are waiting for the phone call from Scolari.  
> Will Maxwell go to Brazil?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I know I said that there would not be a second chapter, but after the cute Facebook messages from Zlatan towards Maxwell I couldn't resist.

May 8th 2014. _Paris._

 **''Max! Let me in!''**  
Maxwell looks up from his movie and grins.  
Zlatan is banging at his door, of course he is.

He gets up from his couch, turns the TV off and walks to the door and opens it, only to see an exhausted-out of breath and sweaty- Zlatan standing in his hallway.  
Zlatan is wearing his jeans and a white vest and his hair is in his usual ponytail.  
''Hey Ibra, whats up?'' he jokes and Zlatan's eyes go wide with annoyance.

''Is it up yet?  
Did he call you?'' Zlatan rambles and Maxwell can tell that he is nervous as hell.

''Nope not yet, would you like to come in?'' he offers with a smirk.  
 _''Duh of course!''_

''To be honest: I was expecting you hours ago, I mean you are more nervous about this then I am,'' Maxwell smiles and he and Zlatan walk to his living room and sit down on the blue couch.

''Yeah well, I don't get to go so it's  important to me that you do go.  
He _has_ to take you Max, he just has to!'' Zlatan pants and Maxwell hands him a bottle of water from his fridge.

''I hope he will but if he doesn't its not the end of the world you know,'' Maxwell shrugs and he places his head against the cushions.  
''Yes it is, cause this World Cup is being hosted in _Brazil_ Max!''

''I am aware of that smartass,'' Maxwell grins.  
''And this is probably your last chance to play in a World Cup, just like it was _my_ last chance too and I blew it when I got beaten by Ronaldo,''  
''You mean by Portugal,'' Maxwell corrects him.

''No it was Ronaldo that beat me, sure their team is great and was way better then mine but it was still Ronaldo that was just better then me,'' Zlatan confesses and Maxwell's jaw drops.

''Wait! You're honestly admitting that he was better then you?  
You've _never_ done that before.

And he isn't better then you, you just have bad luck with the rest of your team.

You know I will always think you are the best player in the world right?  
Not Messi, not Cristiano, _but you,''_ Maxwell says and Zlatan smiles fondly.

''I know, but you're biased Max, cause I'm your best friend,''

''No I'm not, you _are_ the best player in the world and its a goddamn Greek tragedy that you won't get to go to Brazil.  
The biggest tournament in the world deserves the greatest player in the world,'' Maxwell fumes and Zlatan wraps his arm around his best friend and tugs him in closer.

''Thank you Max, I honestly wouldn't know what to do without you, please don't ever leave my side.  
You keep me sane and honest.

 _Everything good I have inside of me is thanks to you._  
People often ask me why we are friends you know,'' he suddenly says and Maxwell's eyebrows are raised and he wraps his arm around Zlatan's stomach and puts his head against his chest.

He hasn't heard Zlatan talk in such a sensitive way since that night in Barcelona, years ago.  
Maxwell has to admit that he has missed that, feeling so secure and safe in Zlatan's arms.

''Oh and what do you tell them?'' Maxwell asks curiously, his heart is beating ten times harder then normal and he feels feverish.

''That you are my better half.  
That before you there was only this hurt, scared and insecure little boy from Rosengard.  
Who knew only pain, only ever heard that he didn't fit in _anywhere._

Never trusting anyone, always on the run, always had to fight for his place.  
But then I met you, and you took me into your own house after you just met me.

You took care of me, showed me that not everybody was out to get me, that I could trust someone with my life.

You made me a better person, a better parent, a better friend and I owe everything to you.

You saved me from myself Max, before you I was on that self destructing path and I'm sure that I would have ruined myself and my career if it wasn't for you keeping me calm, happy and balanced.

 _Thank you for saving me Max,''_ Zlatan says and Maxwell feels too stunned to say anything, his eyes are wet and he digs his fingers deeper in Zlatan's side, feeling to emotional to look up into his eyes, knowing that if he looks up his heart will shatter into a thousand pieces.

Zlatan has never talked like this before- _ever._  
Never this sensitive, this honest and while Maxwell always knew Zlatan felt these kind of things but he never thought he would ever _say_ them out loud.  
With Zlatan it has always been about actions rather then his words.

So Maxwell has always known that Zlatan loves him a lot, and that he is his best friend but this was not what he had expected from him.  
That was one of the best and worst things about Zlatan's character: he was so goddamn complicated and unpredictable.

Always when Maxwell thought he knew his best friend, Zlatan would do something like this, pull a super sensitive speech out of his ass, or just leave him and never look back like he did in Barcelona.

Maxwell got tired of it sometimes but on the other hand, it was one of his favorite Zlatan qualities.

''You really tell them that?'' he asks when he finally finds the courage to speak up again.  
''Of course, I always mean what I say don't I?''

And Maxwell knows this is true, Zlatan never says anything unless he means it.

''Yes but still, its so not like you to speak like that,'' Maxwell says and Zlatan looks a little offended now.  
''Well thanks a lot Max, that's nice of you.  
I would have thought that after that night in Barca you wouldn't ever say something like this,'' he says and Maxwell's face falls.

 **''What?!**  
You never even talked about that night again, not ever!  
So why would I think that it meant anything to you?

You said you wanted to be with me but then when we finally got to the same team again you never speak to me about that again, so what would you like me to think?'' Maxwell snaps and Zlatan's eyes get a little soggy.

''You should have _known_ that I still love you Max, just by using your fucking head!  
Nothing has changed for me, and you know that even when we never talked about it again that it is about actions with me!

Not about fucking words!

You know why I can't be with you openly, you know that!  
Its not that I don't want to, its just that I'm way too famous to do something like that.

I can't even go to the fucking store to get groceries, so how would you like me to date you openly huh?'' he argues and Maxwell lets go of his friend and folds his arms over each other.

''Well you could have told me this!'' he snaps and Zlatan shrugs.

''After all these years I shouldn't _have_ to tell you this Max, cause you know me.  
It doesn't change anything, _I still love you._  
And when we are done with our careers I still wanna be with you,'' Zlatan smiles and Maxwell feels his jaw drop again.

Zlatan will never stop surprising him.  
 _''Really?''_ is all he can master to say.

''Of course, cause like I said: nothing has changed Max, not how I feel about you anyway and I know you still love me too.  
You always do. So yeah when we're done we will be together for sure,'' Zlatan says with a certainty that melts Maxwell's heart.

Then the phone rings, finally.  
It startles Maxwell who after this strange conversation had almost forgotten about the World Cup.

He looks at the screen of his Iphone and sees that it is Scolari.  
''Its him!''  
''Answer it silly,'' Zlatan grins.

Maxwell's hands are shaking, his stomach seems to be filled with stones and he swallows heavily.  
''Hello Felipe,'' he says and he is glad his voice is not shaking as much as his hands.  
''Hi Maxwell, how are you?'' Scolari asks.

''Great thanks, and you?''  
''Fine thank you, well you know why I'm calling.  
I just wanted to tell you that you are coming to Brazil with us, I've selected you for the team,'' Scolari says and Maxwell feels a huge tensed sigh escape his lips.

 _ **''Really?!''**_ he exclaims.

''Yes congratulations!! You made it!  
You should thank Zlatan for it to be honest, he has called me non stop and send me so much material of you playing,''

''I'm sorry what?'' Maxwell asks completely stunned and he looks at Zlatan who has taken his hand.

''He called me multiple times to brag about your abilities and said that I needed to bring someone mature and balanced for all those busy youngsters.  
Zlatan said that you are way better then Marcelo anyway and that I should bring you so he send me a lot of material in a DVD he made of your skills.

That convinced me to take you, so you should thank him for it.  
You should also know that the Brazilian civilians will wanna bring him to the World Cup too and they will make a promotional add to draw him to Brazil this summer.

Can you do me a favor and convince him to go with you? I know he wants to go anywhere with you, hell he followed you all around Europe,'' Scolari says and Maxwell is still too baffled to talk.

''Hello Maxwell, you still there?''  
''Yes I'm sorry, of course I will do that for you, don't worry he will go,'' Maxwell ensures him and then he says goodbye and hangs up.

He stares at Zlatan amazed for a few seconds and then he embraces his friend into a tight hug, sobbing on his shoulder.  
Maxwell cannot believe what Zlatan has just done for him, he doesn't know how to ever express his gratitude about this.

This mean so much to him, playing the World Cup in Brazil, his home country knowing that it was his last chance at a World Cup in his career, its just too much.  
He knows that this is the must unselfish thing that Zlatan has ever done for anybody.

It means everything to Maxwell, its a sign of how much Zlatan truly loves him, its his way of saying: _thank you for everything you have done for me over the years._  
 _For always playing in my shadows, for being my fairly unknown sidekick all this time._

Maxwell nuzzles his head in the crook of Zlatan's shoulder and sighs heavily, all the tension and emotions are rolling over him and he feels Zlatan caress his back and it makes him cry even harder.

''I can't believe you did that Zlatan, that was the most unselfish thing anyone has _ever_ done for me.  
Thank you so much, I can't ever thank you enough for this, it means everything to me,'' he admits and Zlatan kisses his cheek.

''I know, that's why I fought so hard for you to get it.  
You should get everything you want Max, you deserve it more then anyone.

I've never known a more elegant player then you and I've never had a better friend then you, nor will I ever have that.  
This is your reward for your unselfishness all those long years with me,'' Zlatan says and he smiles deeper then Maxwell has ever seen him do before.

''You will come with me right?  
I need you there, I wanna play games and see you sitting in the stadiums.  
 _It won't mean anything to me if you're not there with me, nothing ever does,''_ Maxwell says and Zlatan nods obviously touched by that last statement.

''Of course I will go with you, don't I follow you anywhere!'' he laughs.

''I love you Zlatan,'' Maxwell smiles and before he knows it Zlatan's lips are on his own.

Maxwell feels his heartbeat pounding in his ears, his limbs go numb and he sighs into the kiss.  
He can't even say out loud how much he has missed this.

It has been four years since their last kiss and it seems even longer ago.  
Maxwell isn't sure how he has survived the last four years without these lips onto his own.

Its like suddenly everything makes sense again, everything is right and he is happy for the first time in four years.  
Genuinely happy, not in a friendship kinda way- no he has the love of his life back.  
 _If only for a few seconds, and to him that means everything._

He expects it to last short but Zlatan is not letting him go, not that Maxwell minds.  
Maxwell feels Zlatan's lips brush over his gently and warm and it sends shivers down his spine.  
He has never been kissed so romantically or so warm, so pure and so honest.

It tells him that Zlatan has missed this just as much as he did.  
Cause like always: its about actions with Zlatan, not words.

Zlatan deepens the kiss, his tongue swirling around in Maxwell's mouth, and Maxwell feels a tear that isn't his own land on his cheek.  
Zlatan is crying, and this is something that Maxwell has _never_ experienced with his best friend before.

Not even when he was in absolute hell in Barcelona, not when his brother died a few weeks ago.

Zlatan doesn't cry, that is his unspoken rule.  
He is a tough son of a bitch, with a bad boy image and crying is for sissies.

Maxwell feels Zlatan's body shake with tears so he breaks the kiss and cups his lovers face and looks him into those deep, dark brown eyes.

''Zlatan, its okay, you can trust me with your tears, just let it go.  
You've been holding all this pain for so long, never crying once, _that is such a hard burden to bear._  
Share it with me, let me make it easier for you.

Let me help you, please,'' he pleads and he knows how much he is asking from him.

Its no small thing for Zlatan to admit defeat, to admit to weakness, but somehow this is not the same Zlatan as he was years ago.  
This Zlatan has been suffering from not being with Maxwell in that way for five years now and all that pain is bursting trough his soul.

He also lost his brother a few weeks ago and like always: Zlatan tugged that pain away deep inside of his chest, where he buried all those other heartbreaks and disappointments.  
So Zlatan lets go, he let Maxwell climb over his huge wall and accepts being comforted by the love of his life.

Cause if he cannot trust Maxwell then who can he trust?  
 _No one, the answer is no one._

Zlatan cries for a good twenty minutes and Maxwell is silent, he just strokes his back and Zlatan buries his head in Maxwell's lap, and he squeezes his hands tight.  
Maxwell knows he has to be quiet, this is already hard enough for Zlatan as it is.

He won't say anything unless Zlatan starts the conversation himself.  
Because he knows that Zlatan is feeling utterly useless and vulnerable right now and he needs to be treated with a lot of tact.

When Zlatan dries his eyes he rises up to meet Maxwell's face and places his forehead against his own.  
Maxwell feels his strong arms come around his smaller body and feels Zlatan's hands cupping his cheeks.

Zlatan kisses his forehead and his lips one more time and then says something that surprises Maxwell completely.  
''Lets quit playing after this year,'' he says and Maxwell's jaw drops for the third time that night.

 **''Say what?!''** he exclaims and his eyes are as big as saucers.  
Zlatan grins a bit and kisses Maxwell's cheek.

''Oh you should see your face right now.  
Like I've asked you to move to the south pole with me or something.  
But I'm serious: lets quit after this year!''

''Why would we do that?  
You are in the best form right now!  
Quitting now makes no sense at all!'' Maxwell says still stunned and his brain not really connecting the dots together.

''Well then we can be together, I can't stand not being with you anymore Max.  
 _I just-I can't!_  
When we kissed everything made sense again you know, and I cannot bear with not being with you another couple of years!

I need you in my life, I don't care if we have to tell Helena and come out to the world but I wanna be with you _now._  
Not in a couple of years!'' Zlatan cries and Maxwell feels his heart break.

''Zlatan we are not quitting our careers, I won't let you quit now.  
I would be a fucking lousy friend if I would do that.

I can't be that selfish, but we can be together if you want to.  
We just have to keep it hidden.

You stay married to Helena to avoid suspicions and we just stay ''friends'' as far as the rest of the world is concerned.  
You have to tell Helena about that, but she already knows about how we feel anyway so she would probably be all right with it,'' Maxwell is surprised how quickly his brain has cooked this all up.

''You really mean that?  
Cause that would be an amazing plan,'' Zlatan smiles hopefully and Maxwell nods.

''Of course, you are not the only one who always means everything they say you know,''

''Fuck why didn't we think of this before?  
We wasted all this time for nothing!'' Zlatan pants and he seems furious with himself.

''Zlatan come on, its cause we stopped talking to each other about us.  
I'm not sure why we did that, we just did.

I gave up hope that we would ever be together and you were probably too worried about your image and all that.  
Its all right, we have woken up now.  
Everything will be amazing,'' Maxwell ensures him.

''You promise?'' Zlatan asks with the voice of one of his young sons.  
 _''I promise,''_ Maxwell says and he kisses Zlatan's lips again.

''Oh wait, lets take a picture and post it on internet, I wanna write a sweet message for you on my site,'' Zlatan grins and he takes his phone out.  
''Hold on, you cannot give too much information away, you know that right?''

''Yeah, yeah, come here Max, smile!'' Zlatan grins and he wraps his arm around Maxwell and takes the picture with the biggest grin on his face.  
They put it on both of their Instagrams and smile about the reactions.

''Wanna sleep over tonight?'' Maxwell asks when he is lying in Zlatan's arms on the couch a few hours later.  
''Definitely, please don't ever leave me Max,''

 _''I never left you my love._  
 _Nor will I ever leave you,''_ Maxwell promises and he kisses Zlatan's lips.

They go to sleep with the biggest smile on their faces.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please review guys, means a lot! <3


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